


Sore Loser

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Castiel (Supernatural), Bondage, Extremely Dubious Consent, Forced Orgasm, Gagged Sam Winchester, Guilty Dean Winchester, M/M, Object Insertion, Orgasm Torture, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Tied-Up Alone, Tied-Up Sam Winchester, Under-negotiated Kink, Wrestling, not ssc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 01:00:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20733638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It’s the last morning before Cas is due back, so Dean challenges Sam to a wrestling match where the winner gets to pick what the loser’s forfeit is.Sam didn’t expect to lose, so he didn’t really bother finding out what Dean’s plans were.Which as it turns out was a big mistake.





	Sore Loser

**Author's Note:**

> Dean should have told Sam what he was planning, hence the dub con tag. He definitely should not have left Sam alone either.

Dammit. Sam curses and pants as Dean gets him on his back, wrists pinned, and presses his knee against Sam’s groin in an additional form of restraint, making sure Sam knows better than to try and move.

Yeah, his brother’s a dirty fighter, and Sam has no complaints when they’re neck deep in vampires, or being held captive by witches; he shouldn’t have expected him to play fair when it was just them, either, though.

“Had enough?”

A _no_ is forming on Sam’s lips, and Dean dips his knee just enough to send a sharp pain shooting up from his dick into his abdomen.

He nods, frantic, even if he seethes at the cocky look on his brother’s face.

“Then you know what that means, Sammy. I win.”

“Yeah,” Sam pants. “You win.”

_Fucker_.

He groans as Dean flips him over, and where the hell Dean was hiding rope on his person, he doesn’t know, but it’s thin like tent rope, and it bites a little as he cinches it tight around Sam’s wrists and then hauls his brother onto his feet.

“Okay, you win,” Sam acknowledges, regretting then in a way he hadn’t earlier, when he and Dean had been joking about a wrestling match, and Sam hadn’t cared too much about the consequences because he hadn’t expected to lose, not discussing what the punishment was for losing.

Dean pushes him towards the wall bars, and Sam stumbles a little, muscles still shaking. Dean doesn’t let him go down though; he turns him around, and pushes him against the bars.

“Not an inch,” he warns, and snags a hold-all tucked away into the corner.

Sam’s finding standing up difficult, Dean having worked him way harder than he expected for a playful wrestling match (which does make him a dumbass). He can’t offer any resistance as Dean grabs some leather cuffs from the bag.

He undoes the rope around Sam’s wrists, and replaces it with the cuffs, stretching Sam’s wrists up and wide and buckling them in place.

He has two more for Sam’s ankles, spread eagling them so Sam’s balanced but helpless.

“What are you going to do?”

Dean grins and tugs Sam’s sweatpants down to mid thigh, and chuckles when he sees Sam’s not wearing any underwear.

“You figured on a different reward, huh, Sammy?”

Okay, maybe he had given some thought to his prize if he was the one to pin Dean three times.

He stutters a protest as Dean slips a lubed finger inside him, plays for a little, readying him, and is this it? Is Dean just going to fuck him like this, because really, Sam’d prefer a bed.

He aches and the position he’s in isn’t helping any.

But then Dean pulls back, and reaches into the bag again, and Sam curses when he sees the sleek black vibe.

“Seriously?”

Apparently so; Dean pushes the vibe in, applying pressure against Sam’s resistance, and then turns it on.

It’s the one with just one setting, and it’s immediately overwhelming, which is why it’s the least favourite of their toys.

Before Sam can say anything, Dean’s shoved a gag in his mouth, buckled it in place, and then the thin rope from earlier comes back into play.

He knots it over Sam’s hole, loops some of the slack around his waist, and then just ties the rest around a couple of the bars at Sam’s back.

There’s no chance of him pushing out the vibe now, and he gives Dean a muffled plea around the gag.

Dean tugs his pants into place, and steps back to look at his brother.

“You look so fucking hot like this,” he grins, and kisses Sam around the gag. “All flushed and helpless.”

And then he picks up the bag and turns around, chuckling.

“See you later, Sammy.”

Sam yells his name to a closed door, and then cries out as his first orgasm takes him.

++

The cuffs have no give in them; he can struggle, but it’s pointless, and after a while he lacks the strength to do even that.

The cuffs are doubling, now, as both restraint and support; he can’t get away, but they’re also stopping him falling like a sack of bricks to the floor.

He’s lost track of how many times he’s come; his pants are soaked with more than sweat, and sticking uncomfortably, and he’s given up yelling for Dean. He doesn’t even know how long he’s been down here; while he and Dean like to push limits, and he knows his brother can be wicked, this is not it and when he does get out of here, he’s going to….

Cas.

Sam knows Cas doesn’t care what he and Dean do, as long as they take care of each other, but even so they tend not to flaunt shit in front of him, but by now, Sam’s sure, the angel has to be back. This was his and Dean’s last morning alone in the bunker, because Cas was due back from communing with some forest gods who might be able to help them re-juice heaven.

But this will have to count as an exception, because Sam can’t take any more.

_Cas, Cas, if you’re back, please come down to the gym. I’m okay, just...please, Cas, I need you._

He slumps forward, shoulders aching at supporting his weight, sweat dripping from his forehead, and he gives a broken scream as he comes again, dick hard and poking against his pants, even the soft fabric like hard mesh against his flesh.

He can’t take another one, he can’t, and then the gym door slams open and Cas is staring at him in disbelief.

“Sam?”

++

Even with a quick dose of angel healing, Sam doesn’t refuse Cas helping him to the bathroom. 

Or running him a bath, or easing him into it, and then leaving him to soak.

Cas returns with some water and a change of clothes, but accepts Sam’s assurance he’s steady enough to dry off and get dressed again.

But he doesn’t oppose Cas seeing him to his room, and tucking him in, and he has a feeling he knows what’s coming next.

“Cas, Dean…”

Cas looks about as pissed as he sounds. “I don’t interfere in what you do,” Cas says. “As long as you are both happy and cared for, that’s all that matters. This…. This was not safe, and not like him.”

On that, Sam’s in agreement. They surprise each other, sometimes, but never without putting safeguards in place, and Dean did neither.

“Just...go easy, okay?” Because he knows what Cas’s next stop will be.

Cas nods, but Sam wonders if his idea of going easy will be the same as Cas’s.

But then he knows Cas would never hurt either of them, and then Cas’s hand is gently stroking his hair before he turns off the light and goes.

++

When he wakes up later, it’s to find a contrite Dean sitting next to his bed.

“Kind of overdid it, huh.”

Sam huffs at him. “Kind of? Dean, what the hell.”

“I know, I know….Look, it just...I figured you’d be more up for it than you were.”

Maybe, Sam thinks, he would have been up with it if Dean had told him his plans, hadn’t left him alone, or at least had come back after the second or third orgasm, and told Sam he would.

“Don’t do it again.”

Dean looks relieved that he’s not screwed up so bad Sam’s done with him.

“That’s what Cas said. Thought he was going to actually put me over his knee. Haven’t seen him so pissed since…”. 

He shrugs, and Sam figures his memories have taken him someplace he doesn’t want to go, so Sam reaches out for him.

Dean grabs his hand, and lets Sam tug him into bed, under the blankets, and doesn’t protest when Sam tucks his brother in against him.

Not until Sam rests his chin on Dean’s shoulder and nuzzles his cheek.

“I’m not a teddy bear.”

Sam puts on the biggest puppy eyes he has energy for, and Dean wilts.

“Fine. Tonight, I’m your teddy bear.”

Sam squishes his teddy and hugs him the whole night through.


End file.
